Why

Tree of Life

In the winter of your soul
The world looks stiff and brittle.
The air is penetratingly sharp and icy,
Alternately filling your heart with haunting howls
And deathly silence.
You walk along crunching frost on numb feet,
Head scrunched into tight shoulders,
Glazed eyes staring mindless at frozen ground.
An occasional glance upward reveals
Only the stark boldness of trees
Whose empty arms reach up at the steely dome of sky,
Mirroring your longing for arms around your aching shoulders,
Rubbing warmth into your lonely soul.
So you look down and watch your robot feet.

But look up and behold those trees - ponder the plight
Of that lone tree, crooked and naked, apart.
Though it stands with empty arms alone,
Blossoms gone, leaves withered and lost on the wind,
There is life in it yet at its roots.
In darkness and stillness it waits
Below the surface, alone, unseen, in dirt and rock.
The warmth it cannot generate on its own
Will come with winds of spring
Causing its sap to surge up toward the sun,
Filling its empty arms, clothing its crooked nakedness in splendor.

So let your life’s sap sink low
And settle at your roots.
Let ice and snow encrust your soul.
Let bitter winds blow through your creaking, empty arms.
Let the darkness and the frozen dirt around your feet
Encompass you in haunting silence and lonely sleep.
Be still, cease striving, and wait in patient hope,
For the power and source of your life will flow
From the soil of truth, as you root your feet firmly
In the hope of God’s redeeming love.
For you who know the comfort wintered souls seek
Will have power in your steadfast, rooted feet
When spring winds cause the joy of life to rise again,
To be a shelter, a sweet-smelling, fruit-bearing refuge
For others in winter’s icy grip.

Children will climb your branches,
Swing from your strong arms, and build hideaway forts.
Sweet birds will trust you with rare songs
And nests in your boughs
And carry the seeds of your life afar.
Poets and lovers will lean back to reflect and compose
Against your solid base.
In the soothing shade of your shadows, broken hearts will repose,
Hearing the secret wisdom whispered in your dancing leaves.
Weary passersby will delight in your aroma
And the refreshing fruit you’ll bear.
With no bitterness you’ll share
Standing with open arms, a shelter set apart,
Immortal in the stories of children,
In the memory of lovers, in the verse of poets.
Winter won’t destroy the blessing you will be.
© Amy Anne Martin

Spring Thaw

Like the clarion call of a meadowlark,
Spring has spoken and woken
The seed in my hibernating heart.
No nighttime frosts can quell
The pulse that quickens and swells
With every smile of sunshine
Your face brings to mine.
The warm breeze of your soothing touch
On my head’s flyaway thoughts
Makes each drip of snowmelt
Hurt and burn too much
To push you away and hide.
So I lie perfectly, painfully still,
My heart’s ice encrusted shell
Exposed
Awaiting in passionate patience
The day I shall leap up and blossom,
Surrounded in the safety
Of the garden of your love,
Undaunted by cloudy, rainy days,
Or the winter seasons of my soul.
Sing on, my yellow meadowlark.
My frosty heart is wholly won.

© 1998 Amy Anne Martin